


Nightmare Before Christmas

by lavieboheme0919



Series: Shotgun [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Boys In Love, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, Christmas Presents, College Student Stiles Stilinski, Disapproving Family, Fluff and Humor, Holidays, Let me know if I missed any tags so I can add them, M/M, Roommate Brett Talbot, Talia is super mean, Wealth disparity, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2021-01-16 22:13:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21278570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavieboheme0919/pseuds/lavieboheme0919
Summary: **This is a Sequel to I'll Be Riding Shotgun**Stiles has completed his first semester after their summer adventure and is looking forward to spending the winter break with Peter. Unfortunately, Peter plans on them meeting each other's families and Stiles is shocked to see how the other half lives.





	Nightmare Before Christmas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HDHale](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HDHale/gifts), [LittleRedRidingHale](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleRedRidingHale/gifts).
  * Inspired by [I'll Be Riding Shotgun](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/531281) by HDHale. 

"So, what are you going to do over winter break?"

The question snapped Stiles out of his daze. "My boyfriend is planning something. He won't tell me anything. He keeps saying it's a surprise. How about you?"

Brett, Stiles' roommate, frowned. "I have nothing planned. I'm probably going to stay on campus." Brett didn't particularly like talking about himself, so he pivoted the conversation back to Stiles. "Your boyfriend—his name is Peter, right?" Stiles nodded. "And he's the DILF you went travelling with this summer?"

Stiles was afraid of where this line of questioning was going. As he and Brett got to know one another as roommates, he had mentioned the story of how he met his boyfriend and travelled up and down the west coast with one another all summer long. Brett, who didn't seem to be keen on relationships, had commented that he thought it was imprudent for Stiles to lock himself down in a long-distance relationship during his early years of college. "This is the time you're supposed to whore it up," he had said. "Fuck first, ask questions later. That's my motto."

"And what sort of questions are you asking later?" Stiles asked.

Brett grinned his unspeakably beautiful grin. "For starters, their name."

In their first semester of living together, Stiles had come to understand that Brett truly lived up to that motto. He didn't discriminate based on gender. Stiles had walked in on Brett fucking just as many guys as he had girls. At one point, Stiles asked that Brett adhere to the age-old code of putting a sock on the door and emphasized that he did not mind being '_sexiled'_ from the room. Brett refused, replying "A sock on the door implies that you're not welcome to join in."

There were times that he had been sorely tempted. He hadn't thought ahead about how lonely it was going from three months of near constant companionship with a man he had come to truly love to long, lonely nights studying in the library while fueled only by anxiety and nitro cold brew coffee.

His Skype dates with Peter had left him wanting more—namely to feel Peter's lips against his. He longed to taste Peter's mouth on his tongue, to feel Peter's warm body pressing against his own. He longed for the kind of sleep he only got after the truly epic sexual exploits they had gotten themselves into in the numerous hotel rooms they slept in. When he confessed his loneliness to Peter, he always got the same response. "Hang in there, babe. When this semester is over, I'll make it up to you."

If he was being honest with himself, he would gladly forego any new adventure for just a few weeks of being with Peter every day.

"And when do I get to turn this dorm room into my personal sex dungeon?" Brett asked. Stiles knew it was his roommate's way of asking when Stiles would be leaving.

"When did it stop being that?" Stiles asked in response, raising an eyebrow.

Brett laughed heartily. "Touché."

"I have my last final at 4:00 this afternoon and then I think Peter's going to pick me up and start our surprise… whatever it ends up being," Stiles replied.

Something in his voice prompted Brett to sit up. He stared pointedly at Stiles. "Are you alright?"

"I don't know," Stiles said as he crashed backwards onto his bed. "I'm worried. What if our bond was only because we were literally together 24/7 for three months this summer and now that I've had about that much time away, I realize that I've changed just enough to not want him anymore? Or what if I only want him more but he realizes he's no longer in love with me?"

Recognizing the beginning of one of Stiles' anxiety thought spirals, Brett sprang to his feet. "Stiles, take a deep breath. You're going to go kick your final's ass… then get into the car with your amazingly hot Daddy of a boyfriend, and over the next couple of weeks, you're going to shag like a 1970s carpet."

Stiles laughed. "Thank you," he said. Brett had become very good at figuring out when he was spiraling and helping him to center himself. He had even talked Stiles down from a panic attack during their first week rooming together. It was how they had become such great friends.

"Are you going to be here when I get back from my exam?" Stiles asked.

"Probably not," Brett replied.

"Then have a great holiday! I'll see you in January!" Stiles got up and hugged Brett tightly.

"You too. And good luck on your exam!" Brett called back as Stiles released the hug and move grabbed his backpack, heading out of the dorm.

He made it to his philosophy classroom with a few minutes to spare. He had done so well on the assignments thus far that he could flunk the exam and still get a solid B. When the exam began, he breezed through the questions about historical philosophers. In response to a question that said: "Describe the basic tenants of nihilism." he responded with "No."

Providing additional similarly snarky answers, he finished his test rather quickly. Not wanting to be the first person to turn in the exam, he waited until a few other people turned in theirs and left the classroom before doing the same and heading back to his dorm. As he headed back to the dorm, he texted Peter telling him he was ready, to which Peter replied his ETA was imminent. It took every ounce of self-restraint Stiles had not to run back to the dorm in hopes of kissing Peter that much sooner.

He had only been back in his dorm for a few minutes when he heard a knock at the door. Upon opening it and seeing Peter, he threw himself into his boyfriend's arms, squeezing him tightly and inhaling his scent until it filled his lungs. He kissed Peter until he could no longer breathe and the only thing he could taste was Peter's mouth. When the kiss finally ended, he buried his face into his boyfriend's neck and whispered, "I fucking missed you, Cowboy."

"I missed you too, Shotgun," Peter whispered back.

They stood like that for several long minutes, neither of them wanting to pull away just yet. "I didn't expect it to hurt so much," Stiles finally admits while slowly releasing Peter from the tight hug.

"What do you mean?" Peter asked. His eyes darted fervently around Stiles' face, studying it, committing to memory any changes that might have happened since the last time he saw it.

"I know we texted and FaceTimed, and Skyped all semester, but I just kept telling myself that it was enough and now that you're here and I can literally touch you and kiss you and smell your cologne… I realize how much it hurt not to be able to do that for three months," Stiles said.

"Well I'm here now and it's all I can do not to bring you to your bed and kiss you and have sex with you so loudly you have to transfer schools," Peter replied, lightening the mood.

Peter helped Stiles bring his suitcase down to the car, guiding him not to the pale blue antique convertible they'd used to travel this summer, but instead to the fanciest car Stiles had ever seen. "Umm," Stiles stammered, taking in the gorgeous, sleek lines. "What happened to the blue car?"

"It's at home in the garage," Peter replied. "I wanted to pick you up in a chariot befitting your beauty and grace."

Stiles rolled his eyes at Peter's attempt at gallantry. "There were only 500 of these made," he said refocusing his attention to the Bugatti Chiron in front of him.

"You're a car buff?" Peter asked, genuinely surprised.

"I dabble," Stiles replied, circling it, afraid to get too close. He didn't want to leave so much as a fingerprint on its glossy black exterior. "Peter this car is…" He lost the words. He had surmised from their trip this summer that Peter was wealthy. The fact that he owned this vehicle changed his estimation of Peter's wealth by at least a few decimal points. It also brought with it a whole new set of anxieties and insecurities.

His mind flashed back to 10th grade when his appendix nearly burst. He had been rushed to the hospital and had emergency surgery. There had been complications and he spent a few days in the hospital under observation. After the insurance, there were still tens of thousands of dollars left to pay. Beyond the IV sticks and the sleepless hospital bed nights, the thing he remembered most vividly about that experience was heading downstairs from his bedroom to get a bottle of water a few months later and seeing his father weeping at the kitchen table with a half-emptied bottle of Jack and a pile of unpaid medical bills—bills that he caused.

He remembered the guilt and anger that surged in him. He remembered being mad at his own body for not working properly and putting his father under such stress. He had offered to get a job and help pay for it, but that offer only made things worse. He could see the shame etched into the lines of his father's face. He was in a situation with no way to win.

"Stiles?" Peter's voice was tainted with concern. Stiles snapped back to the moment. "You kind of zoned out there."

Stiles shook his head a bit and opened the car door. "Yeah, sorry, I was just remembering something," he said.

"Was it a good memory?" Peter asked, leaning forward as Stiles climbed into the car and stealing another kiss. "Like the first time we did that…" He kissed Stiles again. "Or the first time we had sex."

Stiles forced a smile. Though it wasn't true he replied with a meek "Yeah."

As they drove, they caught up on little things. Stiles leaned his head against Peter's shoulder, continuing to take in the smell of his boyfriend's cologne. When it became clear that they were driving back to Beacon Hills, Stiles sat up, confused.

"I thought we were having an adventure over the break," he said.

"We are!" Peter replied enthusiastically. "It's a different kind of adventure."

The drive they made was not to Stiles' house, but rather to a different part of the town altogether. Peter pulled into a parking garage next to a large apartment building Stiles had driven past literally thousands of times. The building was one of the tallest in the entire town. Stiles had never been inside before now.

Peter led him inside and to the top apartment. It was a massive two-story loft with a heavy, sliding door. The design was industrial and minimalist. It was modern and masculine. It was Peter. A wall of windows supplied nearly all the light. "You're, of course, welcome to stay with your father but I was actually hoping you might instead stay with me?"

Stiles spun slowly as he took in the vastness of the apartment. He smiled and even laughed a little as he said, "And what? Just spend the entire break having sex with you?"

Peter chuckled as he came up behind Stiles, allowing his arms to snake around him. "Well, I had a few other things in mind, but now that you bring up your suggestion, I'm sure I can clear my calendar."

Stiles turned to face him, laughing harder as he pressed his head against Peter's strong chest. "I guess that depends on what you had in mind."

"I was thinking that we could do normal boyfriend Christmas-y stuff," Peter replied. "Like decorate trees, exchange gifts, meet each other's families."

Stiles nodded, adding soft "Mhmm's" after his suggestions until the last one. "You lost me at 'meet each other's families' Let's scratch that and replace it with having sex all day."

Peter pulled back from Stiles just enough that he could look into his honey brown-colored eyes. "Stiles, I love you _so_ much. I honestly can't remember the last time I told another person that. I don't even remember the last time I had a boyfriend or girlfriend. It was always hookups and gone by morning. I had no investment in them. But you… you're different."

"This is important to you, isn't it?" Stiles whispered. Peter nodded emphatically. He had never looked vulnerable to Stiles before this moment. "Okay then let's do normal boyfriend Christmas-y stuff."

"To start it all off, though," Peter said, "I was thinking we could have sex on that bed." He pointed over to the kitchen area. "And that countertop… and that table… and that sofa…those stairs. The possibilities are nearly endless."

"Then let's get started," Stiles replied.

* * *

Stiles had lost count of how many times they'd made love. He knew only that he was a little sore and a little tired the next morning. Waking up next to Peter was the most satisfying part of all of it. He wasn't sure how he'd be able to go back to not having it when the break ended.

They remained in bed together until hunger forced them out. As they ate, nude, at the previously defiled table (it took two rounds with Clorox before Stiles was comfortable eating on it after what they'd done the night before) Stiles said, "My dad will probably be a little upset if I don't go spend time with him today."

"Understandable. In a couple of days, my sister is throwing her annual black-tie holiday party. I was hoping that maybe you could meet her before but also be my date to the party?" Peter replied.

Stiles felt a wave of anxiety crash over him. "I don't own anything fancy enough to wear to a black-tie event," he admitted, suddenly feeling once more the cavernous distance between their families' wealth.

"I'll take care of that today while you're with your dad. I still have your measurements from when we travelled together this summer," Peter replied. He could see, however, how uneasy Stiles seemed suddenly. In a softer voice, he added, "My family will love you, Stiles. You don't have to worry! I'll be there with you the entire time and if things get too crazy, we can always step away."

That assurance helped… a little.

Stiles helped Peter clean up after breakfast. He showered and then Peter dropped him off at his father's house. Stiles wanted a chance to speak with his dad in person to prepare him for meeting Peter for the first time. He wasn't entirely sure how his dad would take him dating a man so much older than him.

The house was virtually unchanged. Everything was almost exactly where he left it before packing into the car and driving off to his university. "Dad?" he called.

"Stiles?" his father called, racing downstairs to greet him. "I wasn't expecting you for a few more days!" His father embraced him in a tight hug that displayed just how much he had been missed. "You look good, Stiles."

"Thanks, Dad," Stiles replied. "You too."

They sat at the kitchen table, sipping from cups of coffee, catching up on each other's lives. Their phone calls during the semester had been mostly focused on Stiles' studies and since there wasn't much of a personal life to speak of, it hadn't really come up. "You have any girlfriends I should know about?"

"No," Stiles replied.

"Good! Keep it that way. Focus on your classes. There's plenty of time for girls later."

"Well, I don't have a girlfriend… because I have a boyfriend," he said cautiously.

His father, Noah, took that information in along with a sip of coffee and allowed both the coffee and that knowledge to sit on his palette for a moment before swallowing it. "Well, there's no chance of accidental pregnancy with a boyfriend. So, if you're happy, I'm happy, too."

"Thanks, Dad," Stiles replied. "I was hoping you might meet him some time during the break. He's from a good family here in Beacon Hills. They're throwing some huge holiday party in a few days and—"

Noah cut him off. "He's a Hale?" Stiles nodded. "You're dating Derek Hale?"

"No," Stiles replied, remembering that name to ask about later. "Peter."

The coffee that was in Noah's mouth was sprayed across the kitchen. "You're in a relationship with Peter Hale? He's like twice your age!"

"Yeah but he's a good guy and he loves me, and I love him," Stiles said cautiously. "I'd really like it if you met him. I think you'd like him."

"I can't say I'm thrilled that you're seeing someone who is almost as old as I am, but I don't suppose I have much of a choice in the matter."

The rest of the visit went smoothly (for the most part) until Peter came to pick him up and the realization dawned on Noah that Stiles was staying with Peter during the trip. Rather than his first instinct, which was to swear, Noah clicked his tongue several times. "Dad, are you okay?"

"I will be," Noah replied. "But I expect to see you a few more times before you go back."

"Of course, you will," Stiles hugged him.

As they drove off, Peter asked how the visit went.

"It was good… until he realized that I'm dating someone twice my age."

"Maybe he'll come around…"

Stiles preferred to change the subject. "Can we stop by an arts and crafts store? I need to pick up a couple of things to finish your present."

"But then won't I know what you got me?"

"That's why you're not allowed to come in with me and you're also not allowed to look in the bags. Promise me!"

Peter smirked. "I Promise."

* * *

Their second night together was spent watching Netflix and _actually_ chilling. Stiles laid across the couch with his head in Peter's lap. Peter absentmindedly stroked his fingers through Stiles' hair. Several times Stiles caught Peter staring at him.

"What?"

"Nothing," Peter replied shaking his head.

"No really…"

"Don't worry about it," Peter insisted. "It's corny. And just bleh."

Stiles could see Peter blushing a little, which only made Stiles more relentless. After a string of "Tell me, tell me, tell me please!" he changed tactics. "I'll give you a blowjob if you tell me!"

"Are you trying to bribe me with sex?"

"Of course not… I just think you might loosen your tongue if I'm a little lose with mine."

Peter sighed. "Stiles… you know that I love having sex with you… like _love_ having sex with you… but I love it because it's with _you_. I don't want you to think that your willingness to have sex with me is in any way a condition of our relationship. It wasn't this summer, and it certainly won't be in the future. Sex or no sex, I love you."

Taken off-guard, Stiles sat up and stared into Peter's eyes. "I know, Peter."

Peter looked away for a moment. "It's just… there are going to be people who look at our relationship and come to conclusions that are maybe hurtful and wrong. They're going to say things that are callous and untrue. I just don't want you to think that it holds any water with me. You don't have to do anything but be who you are."

* * *

The house Peter's sister lived in was massive. It looked like a house from a magazine. The décor scheme seemed to be "understated opulence." Talia greeted them while on the phone.

"No, I need everything set up by 4:30… I most certainly did not say 5:00… I've had you cater this event for seven years. When have I ever had you start after 4:30? I don't care what the work order says! Make it happen!"

She hung up on that individual and a moment later was on the phone with another call. "No, I said I need hydrangeas. We did lilies last year…. No why on earth would I want poinsettias? Everyone and their fucking mother are going to have poinsettias for Christmas. If I see a single poinsettia, Charles, this is the last time I'll ever order flowers from you again. Am I understood?"

Stiles' eyes widened and moved toward Peter. "Is she always so…"

"Festive?" Peter offered, causing Stiles to snicker.

"No," came another voice, a female one. Stiles looked to the source. She was tall, slender, with long, thick, wavy brown hair. She had sharp angular features, much like Peter and his sister. Stiles thought that that had to be a Hale trait. She was stunning and graceful, yet another trait of the family, Stiles supposed. "She only gets like this right before the party. She's actually normally a very nice person."

"Happy holidays, Laura!" Peter said, greeting her with an affectionate hug.

"Happy holidays, Uncle Peter!" she returned. When the hug ended, she greeted Stiles with a welcoming hug as well. "You must be Stiles! We've heard so much about you!"

"Y-you have?" Stiles stammered.

"Uncle Peter practically wouldn't shut up about you! And the photos you took this summer of your trip were fantastic! You have a photographer's eye!" Laura said.

"Thank you," Stiles replied, smiling broadly. "That was such an amazing trip and I couldn't have asked for a better travel partner!"

Peter gushed and stole a quick kiss, causing Laura to remark, "You two are so cute together!"

"Oh!" Peter exclaimed, snapping to attention. "While I'm thinking about it…" he reached into the inner pocket of the coat he was wearing and pulled out a small, elegantly wrapped package. The paper was a shimmering glossy, but deep maroon color. A silver ribbon wrapped the box, culminating in a large bow. "I might as well put this under the tree. You're okay that Santa isn't the one delivering your present, right?"

"Way to ruin the Christmas magic," Stiles teased, but he was extremely curious as to what the package could possibly contain. He knew he only had a few days to wait to find out… but suddenly that seemed like an eternity. It was Schrödinger's Christmas Present. It held all the possibilities and simultaneously none at all. It made him feel a pang of anxiety about the present he was working on.

Having a limited budget and limited time, Stiles chose to go with a present that was more sentimental in nature. He had saved several of the hotel room access cards from their trip and had printed out some of the photos of them together at their various destinations along the way and made a scrapbook. He'd even put together a playlist to go along with it on Spotify that he intended to share with Peter as he opened his gift.

When Talia finally joined them, she still didn't truly acknowledge Stiles. "Ugh! The 24 hours before the party are the absolute worst! Everything that can go wrong, does and I'm the one who must fix it. Peter, I'm so sorry but I don't really have time to visit right now. We'll talk at the party tomorrow?"

"Oh," Peter said, trying unsuccessfully to not sound saddened by it.

"Oh, and Stiles," Talia said. "The event has a very strict dress code. I'm not sure if Peter told you, but it's black-tie only. If you don't have anything, I'm sure my son, Derek, may have an old suit you can borrow… though I think most of his clothes would swallow you."

Stiles felt his throat go dry. He swallowed hard. "Why would you think that I don't have something to wear for this?" he asked.

"I've seen his suit. It's stunning!" Peter interjected. "Valentino, actually."

The threat of a smile tugged at the corners of Talia's lips. "And you just happened to have a Valentino suit?" she asked Stiles. "I didn't think you were such a fashionista."

Stiles' eyes narrowed to a glare. "I dabble." Though he felt the surge of blood to his ears and face, and the sting of tears at his eyes, he forbade his body to betray him like that. He wouldn't give her the satisfaction. He'd rather die first.

It wasn't until they were finally outside that Stiles fully exhaled. It was shaky and tense. He stayed silent until they were both in the car. "Your sister hates me."

"She's just stressed about the party."

"So, for the other 364 days of the year, she's not a total bitch?"

"She was incredibly mean to you and you didn't deserve that. I'm sorry," Peter replied sincerely as he threw the car into gear and they continued to drive. "If you'd like, we can skip the party altogether."

Stiles narrowed his eyes as he looked over at Peter. "And let her think she won?"

Taken aback by Stiles' response, Peter said, "It's not about winning or losing. It's about you being treated with the respect you deserve."

"I'm fully aware of how petty this makes me sound, but I'm gonna win the ever-loving _fuck_ out of this party," Stiles insisted.

The spent the rest of the day by going to the store and picking up groceries before returning to Peter's apartment. They had to swap the Bugatti out for another of Peter's vehicles, a large truck, to go pick out a Christmas tree, which they then had to lug up the freight elevator along with the giant bin of marked "Christmas decorations" from Peter's basement storage unit. Stiles was so exhausted by the time they got it into the apartment that he collapsed onto the couch. Peter chuckled and dragged it the rest of the way, needing Stiles' help only to put it upright into the holder.

"So tonight," he announced, finally collapsing next to Stiles onto the couch, "on our list of Christmas-y boyfriend things, I thought we could decorate the tree then eat dinner and watch a marathon of those old stop-motion Christmas movies from the '60s and '70s. I was also going to make my grandmother's apple cider recipe."

Stiles stared at Peter. "You're amazing," he said. "You know that?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're just like… the _best_ boyfriend. And I know that I've not had any before you so you sort of win by default, a little… but I can't imagine loving someone else like I love you," Stiles admitted.

"I love you, too," Peter replied, punctuating it with a kiss.

"I _do_ need to spend a bit of time putting the final touches on your gift," Stiles said.

"How about once we finish with the tree, while I'm making dinner?" Peter suggested.

Stiles opened the box of decorations, only to be greeted by a lot of orange and black. "Uh, Peter?" He said, rummaging through to see if maybe the Christmas stuff was underneath—it wasn't. "I think we grabbed the wrong box… or it was mislabeled. This is all Halloween stuff."

Peter stood up and checked the box. "Nope! That's the correct one!" He assured his boyfriend.

Confused, Stiles pressed the issue. "But these are Halloween decorations."

"No, they're my Christmas decorations!" Peter insisted. Seeing how confused Stiles was, he explained. "The song lyric says 'the weather outside is frightful' but it's California… we don't get frightful weather in December, so I make my Christmas tree frightful instead. Also, if you truly think about Christmas songs, they're creepy as hell! Santa Claus is Coming to Town is stalkerish at best. The Carol of the Bells and Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy are both nightmare fuel. And don't get me started on Frosty the Snowman."

Stiles stared, mouth agape, as Peter explained his odd decoration scheme. "No please… I insist that you start on Frosty the Snowman."

"A snowman becomes sentient… like it's basically a person. It gets the kids to start doing all sorts of things against the will of the parents and authorities. But then when the weather warms up, the snowman melts… like it dies. A slow, agonizing death. And we teach this song to children!" Peter said.

Stiles, who by now had also cocked his head to the side could only muster one sentence. "You should be studied."

"Christmas is a terrifying holiday! The only one who ever got it right was Tim Burton when he made the Nightmare Before Christmas," Peter continued.

Stiles pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. "I can't even begin to unpack how much of a weirdo you are… so I'll unpack this box instead." Peter looked a bit crestfallen, so Stiles paused a moment to kiss him again, which immediately perked him up.

When they had finished putting all the decorations on, Stiles stood back to admire their handiwork.

"So, what do you think?" Peter asked.

"That is," Stiles paused to think of the word he wanted to use but couldn't contain his observation in just one word. "That is most certainly a thing that exists in this world."

* * *

The suit Peter had gotten for him fit amazingly. He kept spinning around in front of the mirror, trying to commit to memory the image of him. He was not too humble to admit that he looked _damn_ good. He had put extra effort into his hair and was having a good skin day. Sure, his satisfaction in how he looked was purely for petty, spiteful reasons… but if it meant that he'd get to see the look on Talia Hale's face when she saw him, he could handle being spiteful and petty.

He held the wrapped gift on his lap as they drove in Peter's Bugatti to the expansive Hale mansion. Talia had hired a valet to ensure that her guests didn't have to walk too far. He hoped beyond all hope that Peter liked it. He tried to shoo away the nagging thought of the tiny gift that was waiting for him later that night.

Upon entering the house, Laura greeted them cheerfully. She held mistletoe over Stiles and Peter, encouraging them to kiss. It was a deep, passionate kiss. After, Peter whispered "I love you."

Laura then grabbed Stiles' arm. "I'm going to borrow him for a little bit, Uncle Peter! I promise I'll take good care of him!"

"You better," Peter warned as he noticed Talia approaching him.

Laura interlaced her arm with Stiles' as she gave the grand tour. "Normally my sister would do this, but she wasn't able to make it back home in time due to flight cancellations and my brother is currently preoccupied, so you get me, instead!"

"And what exactly is it that you're doing?" Stiles asked.

"Giving you the grand tour, of course!" Laura replied cheerily.

"That's really not necessary," Stiles insisted. "I planned on staying near Peter all night."

"And neglect to show off that amazing suit? Not on my watch!" Laura replied.

Stiles was somewhat shocked to learn that when Laura said "grand tour" she was not even remotely joking. It was exhaustive and ended in the kitchen.

"You haven't given him a chance, Talia!" Stiles heard Peter's voice just a little too loudly from the other side of the kitchen door.

"Keep your voice down!" hissed Talia in reply. "He would be better off dating someone closer to his age and station. He isn't like us."

"And thank God for that," Peter snapped back. "I don't know what the fuck happened to you, Talia, to make you so heartless."

"You can be such a prick sometimes, you know that?" Talia seethed.

"I'm well-aware. And if it weren't for the fact that you lack depth and warmth, I'd call you a c—" the word was cut off by the sound of Talia slapping Peter hard across the face.

Stiles looked at Laura, hurt and shock in his eyes. "Stiles, I'm so sorry you heard that," she said earnestly, ushering him away from the kitchen and toward the bartender. She ordered two of something Stiles had never heard of and handed one to him once it was made.

"I'm not 21 yet," Stiles replied glumly, the echoes of Talia's words continuing to ring in his ears.

"I won't tell if you don't," Laura replied. "Besides, after what you just heard, I think it's probably warranted."

Stiles accepted the drink and took a cautious sip. It was delicious and the burn of the alcohol forced him to drink slowly. "I don't get why your mom hates me so much…"

Laura led Stiles outside where the bracing air of the cold night greeted them. "Honestly, me neither. You and Peter are so well-matched for one another. Personally, I'm thrilled that you found each other."

Stiles sighed as he looked out at the expansive property, lit only by the Christmas lights and the large, full moon. "My dad isn't happy about my relationship with him either, you know," he admitted. "I love Peter so much, but I wonder how I'm supposed to make this relationship work when we're facing so much judgment from our families…"

"You tell the families to fuck off," came the reply from a voice Stiles didn't recognize.

"Derek! You startled me!" Laura exclaimed.

"Sorry, I saw you two heading away from the kitchen shortly before Peter and mom got into a full-on shouting match. I figured those two things had to be related," he said. Laura nodded. Derek turned his attention to Stiles. "I'm going to ruin the surprise that Peter has planned for you, simply because you need to know what it is for the point that I'm going to make to sink in." Stiles braced himself. "The tiny box under our tree with your name on it has a key inside that goes to a condo near your school. During this semester, he missed you so much that he bought a condo near you just so that he could be closer to you. Now I love my uncle, but until then, I had never seen him so much as open a door for someone he was dating. The way he feels about you is different. So what if my mom doesn't like the fact that you're dating… or your dad doesn't, for that matter? What's important is that you love him, he loves you, and that you're truly happy together."

Laura rustled her brother's hair. "Derek, I didn't know you were such a romantic at heart," she teased.

Stiles felt somewhat more unnerved by learning what the surprise was. "If anything, though, it underscores your mom's point. I'm not from your world. I couldn't afford to get him anything, so I put together a scrapbook from our adventure this summer and created a playlist for it."

"You did?" a fourth voice joined them. Stiles turned his head to see Peter, stopped in his tracks.

Somewhat shamed, Stiles nodded slowly. "Yeah. I know that what you did for me was something big and I wish I could do something big for you, too… but I can't."

Peter handed his drink to Derek and closed the distance between himself and Stiles, pulling his boyfriend tightly into a deep kiss. When they finally pulled away, Peter stared into Stiles' eyes. "Stiles, I don't care what price tag came with the gift, I only care that it came from you."

"But Peter, I'm flat broke. I have nothing but wit, sarcasm, and love to offer to this relationship and I don't want you to feel like I'm taking advantage of you because you're…. well…" Stiles struggled to finish the sentence.

"Wealthy?" Peter offered. Stiles nodded. "Look. You're in college. This is the time in your life when basically _everyone_ is flat broke. I can't help that I come from a family with money any more than you can help that you didn't. I genuinely love the fact that I can do crazy, spontaneous things for you and I don't mind. I know you're not with me just for my money, which is exactly what Talia is afraid of. I know you're with me because you love me, just like I know that I'm with you because I love you."

Stiles bit his bottom lip as he wiped a tear away from his eye. "You're really fucking amazing, you know that, Cowboy?"

"And you're pretty fucking awesome yourself, Shotgun."

* * *

**Four Years Later**

"I feel like going on a midnight hike flies in the face of every self-preservation instinct my dad tried to instill in me," Stiles complained. They had driven quite a distance north, into Canada, in fact, for this hiking trip. Peter said it was to celebrate before he started his final semester of his undergraduate degree.

"It'll be worth it once we get there, I promise!" Peter insisted. "We're almost there, just a few more minutes."

Their leather jackets did well to protect them from the biting cold of that December night. True to Peter's promise, they reached a clearing in which the dense tree cover no longer obscured their view of the night sky. With little to no light pollution, Stiles was able to see the stars in a way he hadn't since his late-night skinny-dipping session a little more than three years ago.

"It's gorgeous," Stiles remarked of the sky as he felt Peter's arms snake around him from behind. He could make out the faintest echo of condensation as he exhaled.

"You haven't seen anything yet," Peter whispered into his ear. Pulling away from the younger man, he found a large, sturdy log and by the light of his cell phone, made sure there were no creatures around it.

They sat huddled together for nearly half an hour when the first shimmer of green and purple began to dance above them. Stiles gasped audibly. He had never seen anything so stunning.

"Peter, this is amazing," he said after several moments, wiping the tears from his eyes. He glanced over at Peter only to notice that instead of the northern lights, Peter had been staring at him. "You're missing it! How can you possibly be staring at me when _that_ is happening!" he admonished, pointing upward.

"Because you're still the most beautiful thing I could possibly be looking at right now," Peter answered solemnly.

Stiles swallowed hard as he watched Peter slowly move to one knee and pull a small box from his pocket.

"Stiles Stilinski," Peter began. "I have had the pleasure of knowing you and loving you for nearly four years now and they've been the greatest four years of my life. I was hoping that you might accept this and turn four years into the rest of our lives."

Stiles blinked away more tears, though these were for a different reason. He couldn't make out the details of the ring. It didn't matter, anyway. He helped Peter slide it onto his finger and then kissed him deeply. "Absolutely, Cowboy."

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Please let me know what you thought in the comments. I thought I was done with the Shotgun story, but there was still a bit more left in me. 
> 
> I also want to take a moment to thank LittleRedRidingHale for her help in planning and developing ideas for this story. I lso relied heavily on her feedback along the way while I was writing. It was a joy and a pleasure and I certainly feel as though I've made a new friend for the experience :)


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